Family Ties
by The Incredible Klutz
Summary: John Rider Sr. has outlived all of his family, except for his estranged grandson, Alex.
1. Chapter 1

**A new story!**

**More on the serious side for me, and a little bit sad as well...**

**Tell me what you think!**

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**Prologue**

John Rider held his wife, Elizabeth close to him as she cried into his shoulder. A man in a black suit stood just outside their front door, holding a package under one arm.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Mr. and Mrs. Rider. Your son was a good man. He died in service to his country. His wife as well." The man said without a hint of emotion in his voice. "You have our most sincere condolences. Good day."

And the man was gone, leaving the aging couple to mourn over their oldest son and their daughter-in-law.

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Thirteen years later a hollow knock resounded through the Rider's home in Manchester. John pushed himself up out of his chair, wincing as his bare feet hit the cool floor. He padded down the hall to the front door and pulled it open, finding himself face to face with a square faced man in a black suit.

"Yes? What can I help you with?" John asked, stepping back to look at the man properly. A tight knot formed in his stomach. The last time a man like this had visited the news of his son and daughter-in-law had tormented them for years.

"Mr. Rider?" The man asked. John nodded apprehensively. "I'm very sorry to tell you this… earlier this week your son, Ian was killed returning from Cornwall. A car accident, you see. I'm very sorry for your loss. You have our most sincere condolences."

John closed the door and leaned back against the wall. Tears streaked down his face as he reached for the phone on the closest hall table. Not even sixty and he'd outlived both of his children.

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John Rider stood to the left of his wife's casket, shaking hands with the well wishers and friends of the family who had come to pay their respects. And he didn't cry, he didn't think that he had any tears left in him.

Elizabeth had lived to sixty three before grief and stress caused a heart attack that took her away from him. John had cried when he got the call and again while picking out a casket and headstone for her. She was buried next to Ian, John and Helen in the family lot.

It hurt John when he looked through the crowd and couldn't find his grandson. He hadn't been present at Ian's funeral either, though John thought that he may have been consumed by grief and not been able to make it.

John shook another hand and offered another brave smile as people filed past him but he committed himself to giving his grandson a call as soon as the service was over.

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	2. Chapter 2

**I got a very positive response from the first chapter of this fic! It's great to know that you all like it so far!**

**Consider this chapter as a big THANKS to everyone who reviewed!**

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"Alex, you've got a message." Jack called from the kitchen as Alex stomped into the house, kicking mud off of his football cleats. He dropped his practice bag and backpack next to the door and stepped out of his shoes to avoid being scolded by Jack for tracking mud into her clean house.

Jack was sitting at the kitchen table, reading a magazine of some sort when Alex walked in.

"How was school?" She asked, looking up at him. "The name and number are next to the phone."

"It's not anyone from the bank?" Alex asked raising his eyebrows in surprise. "Who was it?"

"Alex..." Jack trailed off, her tone was not happy. "Why don't you take it in your room? It's private I think, your business."

"Jack, who was it?" Alex pressed. Jack stood up with her magazine and side stepped around him, heading for the living room. "Jack!" Alex called in exasperation.

"Just call him back! And- and try to be understanding Alex. He's been through a lot." Jack called back to him. Alex stood there for a moment, staring after Jack before he looked at the phone hanging on its hook on the wall. A purple sticky note had been stuck underneath it with Jack's neat scrawl covering it.

Alex peeled it off and read it. He furrowed his brow, looking at the name. _John Rider_. His father? His dad was dead- he'd been six feet under for the last fourteen years now. So who was calling for him?

Alex lifted the phone and headed for the stairs, taking Jack's advice to take the call privately. He closed his bedroom door quietly and sat cross legged on his bed, glaring at the offending phone. This call was going to cause some sort of damage, he was sure of it. But he couldn't deny that he was curious about the man with the same name as his father.

After nearly five minutes of silent debating Alex reached for the phone again and punched in the number that Jack had written. Alex held the phone to his ear and waited. It rang once, twice, three times and no one picked up. The call went to voicemail.

"_This is John and Elizabeth Rider. Sorry, we can't get to the phone at the moment, leave your name and number and we'll get back to you!" _The phone beeped and Alex ended the call, dropping the phone again.

Why would this John call him then not pick up when he called back? Alex crumpled up the sticky note and tossed it into his waste basket. He got off the bed and left his room to retrieve his backpack and duffle bag from the entry hall.

He reached the top of the stairs before the phone rang from inside his room. Alex let out an exaggerated sign and spun around, flouncing back down the hall and snatching up the phone as he fell onto the bed.

"Hello?"

"Alex?"

The voice belonged to an old man and it wasn't familiar. Alex frowned at the nervousness audible in the man's voice.

"Yes, who is this?" Alex asked carefully.

"Alex… this is… I'm, uh, dammit this is harder than I thought it would be…" The old man grunted. Alex waited for his question to be answered, not amused by this old man. "Well, I'll just put it out there then, I'm John Rider Sr. Your granddad."

Alex nearly choked on his spit as he flew into a sitting position. His eyes narrowed in suspicion at the old man's words.

"No you're not." He spat. "My grandfather is dead."

"Well I certainly hope not." John grumbled. "But I kid you not, Alex. I'm your very much alive grandfather. Like it or not."

"Why haven't I ever met you then?" Alex demanded standing and pacing around his room. "If you were my grandfather then why have I never seen you before, or heard of you?"

"You'd have met me if you had shown up for your uncle's funeral." John bit out in a clipped tone. Alex was silent, his grip on the phone tightening until his knuckles turned white. "Alex- I'm sorry, I didn't mean that." John said after a moment.

"Yes you did. And you're wrong. I was at Ian's funeral with Jack. I never saw _you_ there at Brompton-"

"Brompton?" John interrupted. "Ian's buried in Heaton, here in Manchester. With your parents and your grandmother, in the family lot."

"No. No, no, no. My uncle, Ian Rider, is buried in Brompton Cemetery here in Chelsea. I was there. I saw him be buried."

"You saw his body?"

"No- it was closed casket." Alex quickly recalled what MI6 had given as the cover story of his Uncle's death. "A car accident."

"Then how do you know he's not buried in Manchester?" John finished. Alex was quiet for a moment, thinking of how to respond to that.

"How do you know he is?" He challenged. He smirked a little when there was silence on the other end of the line.

"Very well, I can see that you are your father's son." John said. "But, you're the only family I've got left. And, if its agreeable to you, I'd like to, well, get to know you. My time isn't getting any longer and I've not seen you since you were a baby."

"Alright. I guess." Alex agreed, albeit apprehensively.

"Great, so… I can pick you up after school on Friday? Do you know any good restaurants in the area? I'm afraid I don't make it up into London much anymore."

"There's a decent Mongolian place not far from my school. I could meet you there around… four thirty?" Alex proposed. "Mongolian Grill, it's at the corner of 84th and Terrance."

"Mongolian's good. So… I'll meet you there then."

"Alright."

"Well. Bye then. Have a good day tomorrow." John said.

"Uh… thanks. You too I guess. Bye." Alex hung up the phone with a sigh of relief.

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	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry for the long wait guys! Out of town and all that jazz...**

**Anyway- enjoy this next chapter on me!**

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Alex looked again at the time on his mobile and sighed. He'd been waiting at the restaurant for nearly twenty minutes and there was still no sign of his 'grandfather'. He was losing faith and beginning to suspect a setup. He had unwrapped the silverware upon his arrival and slipped the steak knife into his lap. Just in case.

Alex looked at the door, not for the first time, for it was becoming something of a paranoid habit, and saw a man of about sixty speaking to the hostess. The woman motioned in his direction and Alex quickly turned away, pretending to sip from his water. He tracked the man's movements out of the corner of his eye until he sat down across from him.

They sat there silently for nearly a minute staring at each other. Alex could see the family resemblance in the man's slightly wrinkled face. The same cheekbones and nose that Alex was used to seeing in a mirror were present on the man's face. It was easy to tell that in some point in his life the man had possessed blonde hair.

Alex caught John looking him over in much the same manner. John noticed him looking and stopped his observations.

"Sorry. You look a lot like John did." He said gruffly. "And like I used to."

"Yeah, I can see the family resemblance." Alex said, unsure how he was supposed to reply. They fell silent again and resumed their staring until John gave a wry grin.

"This isn't getting us anywhere, so why don't we start over?" He stood up and extended his hand to Alex who took it cautiously. "How do you do? I'm John Rider Sr., your long lost grandfather. It's nice to finally meet you, Alex."

"You as well." Alex said with a small smile. John's sense of humor seemed to be the same as Ian's. It had been a long time since Alex had encountered it. "So… how have you been?" Alex asked in an attempt to start a conversation.

"Decent. But I'd like to hear about you, if that's alright. Then I'll tell you about myself." John said. Alex blinked but nodded slowly.

"Well, I guess since Ian's died I've been living with my housekeeper, Jack. She's American and been really great to me. I go to Brookland Comprehensive; I'm on the football team when I'm there. I get sick a lot, you see. After Ian's accident my immune system crashed and I've been able to catch things more easily than I did before."

John nodded as he listened. Alex could see wheels turning behind the man's eyes and decided to ask what had been gnawing at him since they had spoken on the phone.

"Why didn't I come to live with you after Ian's crash?" Alex asked carefully. "I'd never even heard of you before you called."

John was silent as he stared hard at Alex.

"I can't imagine why Ian wouldn't have told you about me. We were, after all, very close before he joined up with the military." John said with a frown. Alex narrowed his eyes at him.

"You're lying." He said quietly. "I told you what you wanted to know about me. Why won't you answer my question?"

John stood up abruptly. "I'm sorry, but this was a mistake. I shouldn't have come and tried to talk to you. You were probably better off without knowing about me." He turned to leave but Alex was on his heels.

"No, you owe me an explanation," Alex said as he followed him out of the restaurant. "You can't just walk into my life, lie to me then leave after three minutes." John whirled on him and Alex stopped walking to glare at his grandfather.

"I don't owe anything to you. I hardly even know you. And you're one to talk about lying- you hardly gave me any information about you."

"I don't know you. I don't usually go around telling my life story to anyone who will listen. Sorry." Alex bit out. John looked at him with a hard glint in his eye.

"Get in the car."

"What?" Alex asked, taken aback. John started walking again.

"If you want to hear about my life then get in the car. We aren't going to have this conversation in the middle of a car park." John said before climbing into the driver's seat of a black Sedan.

Alex hesitated before dashing around to the passenger's side and sliding into the front seat next to his grandfather. John looked at him for a short moment before he focused his attention on getting on the road.

"Alright, kid, what do you want to know?"

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	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry for the horribly long break! My muse has left me and I've been stuck with all of my stories for a while now. **

**I'm dedicating this chapter to _Lyra Black _who gave me the swift kick in the butt I needed to get arund to this story again. Thank you!**

**Please enjoy the chapter!**

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"You're just going to roll over and tell me?" Alex asked in astonishment. John arched an eyebrow and fixed Alex with a sidelong look.

"Do you want to know or not? I'm giving you a chance to ask. Hurry up before I decide to change my mind and drop you off somewhere." Alex didn't doubt that the old man would simply order him out of the car. From what he'd seen thus far he was certain that the man was senile.

"Alright," Alex began cautiously. "Why haven't I ever met you before, or heard any one talk about you." He watched John carefully trying to gauge his reaction. The old man's face hardened and he flapped a hand in Alex's direction waving the question off.

"Next question." He said simply.

"No, you said that you would give me answers. I asked that question and I want to know why." Alex said coolly. He stared at his grandfather's profile, waiting.

"I'll tell you when you're older." John grunted after a moment. "Ask me another question."

Grudgingly Alex let the question go. "Are you married?"

"Was. For a long time. Elizabeth died a while back. Thought I told you that already, said you were the only family that I got left." John's voice was gruff and Alex made a mental note to stay clear of talking about his grandmother.

"Sorry. Erm, where you close with my dad, or my uncle?" Alex asked, fearing what bringing up John's sons might result in. He had to know if he had known about their career though. He couldn't dance around that much longer.

"Was, before they got tangled up in the military and whatnot. After that I barely ever saw them. Met your mother a few times though, she was good for your dad. Very fine young woman Helen was." John offered glancing at Alex. "Do you remember her or your dad?"

"No. But I met some people who used to work with my dad. They told me a little bit about him. And Ian gave me an old photo album once." Alex admitted. He saw his grandfather stiffen in the seat next to him.

"You meet that idiot John used to run around with? Ash or whatever nonsense name he called himself?" John asked in a low voice. "Might as well have been the one who blew up the plane for all he did for your dad."

An uneasy silence settled over the two for a long moment before John coughed and turned onto another road. He seemed to be mindlessly driving through Chelsea with no clear destination in mind.

"Who did you say you were living with now? Young lady answered the phone when I called to set this up. She a relative of your mother's?" John asked, breaking the silence.

"No. I don't know if my mum had any relatives. Never met anyone who knew her well enough to tell me. That was Jack. Ian hired her on as a housekeeper when I was small. He was gone a lot, away on business he told me, so she became sort of a nanny for me."

Alex was trying to drop hints but the old man was dodging around them expertly. It was enough to make Alex suspicious of his grandfather.

"She seemed nice enough," Was all John said in response to Alex's explanation of Jack.

"She's great, really." Alex muttered. "So, erm, what did you do?"

"You mean my career? Was in the military since I was seventeen. Used to fly planes. That's how I met your grandmother. Picking up cargo in France and she was there are the airfield seeing her father off. She came from a military family as well. I'd be surprised if you go into anything other than the armed forces. It's run in the family for generations."

Alex stifled a chuckle. If only John knew the irony of what he had just said.

"Actually I was hoping of being a professional footballer."

"Bah, that's not a career." John spat. "You need a proper job; something where you use your mind. You seem to have a good one. Don't let it go to waste boy. Your wits are the best thing to have about you. Proper education and a good job is what you need."

Alex listened to the old man's grumblings half heartedly. It was a very paternal thing for John to say, grouching about Alex's choice in careers and in some way it reinforced Alex's decision to trust the man. He couldn't place the reasons for his trust but he had learned to listen to his gut.

He was pulled back to the present when John stopped the car and Alex realized that they were on the street outside of his house. John watched him unbuckle himself from the seat without a word and offered up a small smile as Alex climbed out of the car.

"I'd like to talk to you again." Alex said from the street. "If that's okay with you, I mean." He amended quickly. John smiled at him congenially and nodded. "Alright. I'll give you a ring then and we can choose a day."

"I'll call you instead." John said quickly, before Alex could close the car door. "It's easier that way. I'm not in the house much, you'd be hard pressed to find a time when I'm in to answer."

Alex blinked. "Okay then. You call me. If I don't pick up Jack will."

"I'll see you soon then Alex." John said with a nod. Alex closed the door and stood back as the car took off down the street before disappearing around a corner.

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	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks to all those who reviewed! I haven't given up on this story at all but my schedule simply makes it hard for any work on it to get done!**

**Anyways, on with the story!**

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Tom Harris, on principal, was a naturally curious boy. Locked cupboards and hidden Christmas presents had been the bane of his existence throughout his childhood. He cherished the lock picking skills that he and Alex had perfected together by the time that they were twelve.

Moreover, he hated that Alex kept most of the details of his missions from him. It was like his own form of torture to know that there were answers within his grasp, but he respected Alex enough not to go about prying things out of him. He respected Alex a great deal, but he feared him just as much.

He knew that his friend had been through hell several times in the last year and a small part of him wished that he had been there to at least experience a part of it. He hated not knowing what was out there in the world, waiting for them.

And so when he saw Alex getting out of the black car in front of his house, he felt that old flame of curiosity rear up again. He could see the expression on Alex's face clearly from the end of the street. Confusion was not one that he was used to seeing there.

It unsettled him to see that the one person in his life who always had the answers, held all the cards, was at a loss as he stepped out of the car. For a moment he debated with himself about approaching Alex before he disappeared inside the house. Curiosity and Apprehension hashed it out in a matter of seconds, apprehension won out. If Alex was in one of his states he did not want to be there until he pulled himself out of his mood and forced himself to be sociable.

Tom turned in the opposite direction, heading back toward his own house, prepared to wait until the inevitable call came from Alex, wanting to go to the park and play a game of mock football. He would get a few snippets then and that would have to be enough for the time being.

He wouldn't have to wait long, really. Just allow Alex enough time to talk to Jack, shower and get dressed and he would call. Tom had his friend's routines down to a T and to be honest he was a little worried by that fact.

Alex was one enigma in his life that he had been able to figure out. All the months of him not being around had shed light on the small things that were no longer present when Alex was away on a mission. Tom found himself keeping careful track for reasons that he couldn't explain.

The cordless phone that he had left on his nightstand in anticipation let out a shrill ring, jerking Tom back to the here and now of things. He rolled over, shouting for his mother not to bother picking up. Snatching the phone up Tom answered the call and flopped back against his mattress.

"Hello?"

Alex's familiar voice did not greet him as he had expected. Instead it was the cool, almost automated, voice of a young woman.

"Mr. Harris, your presence has been requested by Mr. Blunt at the Royal and General Bank. We are sending a car for you immediately. It would be in your best interest for you to come as quickly as possible. We need to speak to you about the accounts of your friend, Mr. Rider."

"What are you-" Tom began but the call ended with a sharp _beep._ Tom looked at the phone in his hand in confusion for a moment before he got up and went to his window. Separating the blinds he peered out to the street below and felt his stomach tighten as a black car with tinted windows rolled up to the curb. It sat there expectantly and Tom bit his lip.

For a long time now he had wondered about The Royal and General and the people who ran it. It was one of the topics that Alex didn't like to talk about and he couldn't do too much investigation without raising suspicion from the government. A boy his age poking around a top secret organization was bound to bring about questions.

Tom looked back at the phone in his hand then back to the car waiting for him. Alex would be calling any minute now and they would go to the park. He would listen silently to whatever Alex had to tell him and not ask any questions because he knew that the answers he would get would give him no new information.

But he could get into that car and see firsthand what Alex experienced every time he was out of school. So what if they wanted to rope him into some spying game like they had done Alex? They couldn't really blackmail him with anything other than taking him away from his parents and that would be a relief to him. He could laugh in their faces and tell them to go ahead.

His mind made up Tom stepped away from the window and dropped the phone on his unmade bed. He shrugged on a light jacket and left his room, calling out to his mother, telling her not to wait up for him as he was going out.

She didn't answer him as Tom walked down the stairs and out the front door. He crossed the damp lawn to the black car still sitting at the curb and opened the back door before sliding into the seat. He buckled himself in and closed the door before meeting the driver's eyes in the rearview mirror.

The man didn't say anything to him as he pulled away from the curb at a steady pace. Tom kept quiet as they left Chelsea behind and headed for downtown London.

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**The plot thickens!**

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	6. Adoption Notice

To whom it may concern:

I'm horribly sorry to everyone who has been waiting forever for updates on any and all of my stories!

I've had to make a very tough executive decision and I have chosen to put any of my unfinished stories up for adoption. Please contact me if you would like permission to carry on where I've left off. I would still like to beta for the stories, since they were originally mine. Sort of like visiting rights.

If anyone is interested contact me, tell me your ideas and I'll get back to you about it right away!

Love,

Klutzie


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